


the ballad of moon taeil

by chymyg (greetingsfrommaars)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff and Humor, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Magical Shenanigans, Square: Bottle, maybe the real journey is the friends we made along the way, relatively silly, the little mermaid: moon taeil edition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29747904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greetingsfrommaars/pseuds/chymyg
Summary: Some mermaids may be willing to waste away waiting for their princes to come to them, but Taeil is not one of them.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Moon Taeil
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19
Collections: THE COLLECTION





	the ballad of moon taeil

Taeil wakes up with his mouth full of sand.

Not too unusual, considering the fact that he lives under the sea. Sometimes he gets too wild in his dreams, and he floats right off his bed. He spits it out and slaps his tail on the sea floor.

The result is… rather more jointed motion in his lower regions than he expected.

Taeil moves to raise himself on his arms, only to hiss at the hot sand on his bare skin. For the first time, he registers a light wind on his face – oh, so that’s _not_ a sea current – and shudders. The sun beats down from an angle that points to it being mid-morning. Somehow, impossibly, Taeil has beached himself.

He glances down to check on his tail and screams.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my beautiful tail?”

The offending appendages, lacking a mouth, only kick pitifully in response. For a second, Taeil gets distracted by the feeling of multiple limbs moving in mismatched rhythms, but then he remembers. He’s on land, and he doesn’t know why.

He looks up again to take in his surroundings. Then he freezes.

The human gawks back, mouth open wide enough for a mid-size guppy to wander in.

Hmm. Well.

Taeil lifts a hand and waves. He’s interacted with humans plenty of times. Maybe if he just acts normal, this human will snap out of it and initiate the interaction with a classic “Hello!” or “How do you do?”, which Taeil knows how to handle. ( _Like a fish out of water,_ Taeil will tell him, and only giggle a little bit.)

The human clears his throat. “Uh, hey. Sorry about that.”

Taeil waves away the apology. It’s all water over the sunken bridge to him already.

“I really didn’t mean to stare,” the human continues. “It’s just that this is a new one for me.” He waves a hapless hand in Taeil’s general direction.

Taeil understands. This is all pretty new to him too. Especially the legs. He’s 100% certain he has never had legs before.

The human shrugs again.

“It’s just that… I’ve just never seen a centaur on a beach before.”

Taeil looks down again. He screams.

“Why are there _four_ of you?”  
  
  
  
The memories start to drift back to the surface like flotsam and jetsam as Taeil bakes under the sun, talking to his new human friend Hendery.

Eight hours ago, he was a mermaid in the sea. Now, he is a centaur on land. These things are for certain. It’s the in-between bits that come a bit… fuzzy.

There’s flashes of a cave lined with kelp and shelves upon shelves of mystery vials. The walls spinning around him in a way that meant either he was roaring drunk, or a whirlpool suddenly decided to move into the cave and toss things around for a bit. (Since whirlpools very rarely make conscious decisions, Taeil knows which one is more likely.) A splash of glitter through the water, coming to settle on Taeil’s hair and eyelashes. A tiny squishy sea hare resting on his hand. (Hendery coos at this one.) The unearthly, rippling glow that tells you there’s magical rituals afoot. Magical potion rituals, to be precise.

This is all Yuta’s fault.

Yes, it’s all coming clear now, as Taeil gets more excited, and Hendery more confused. The image crystallizes in his mind: Yuta, his grin widening to just shy of maniacal, dangling a bottle in Taeil’s face with two fingers. The potion looked so pretty. Tasted like muck as it went down, but Taeil was so far gone by then anyway, and Yuta promised it’d get him where he needed to be…

“I’m on a mission!” Taeil blurts out.

“Oh, uh, that’s great,” Hendery says. He doesn’t understand, but Taeil can explain it to him.

He already explained it all to Yuta yesterday. It’s actually very simple if you think about it.

Taeil is a mermaid with things to do. He can’t just wait around forever. He refuses to wait around forever, so as they say: if the fight won’t come to him, he’ll bring the fight to them! (“You’re going to fight someone?” Hendery asks, alarmed. Taeil hurries to correct him.) If the romancing won’t come to him, he’ll bring the romance to them! Who says only the prince can go on the grand adventure, anyway? But there’s just one problem. The castle is improbably far away for a mermaid such as he.

This may come as a surprise, but as a mermaid, Taeil lives in the sea. (Hendery does not look surprised. Good on him.) The castle is on land. All that separates him from his destination is a tiny amount of swimming, and then an unbearable amount of flopping along on his stomach. But if he had legs – oh, if he had _legs_ – then all of that could change! He could walk. He could run. He could scuttle sideways like a crab if he so desired!

And lo and behold, he has legs. And okay, so it’s a couple more legs than he was anticipating. But it’s only a couple. He’s sure he can figure it out. The possibilities are endless!

Hendery takes all this in with a pensive look. Then he says, “Okay. That sounds awesome. Have you used legs before?”

“No, but it can’t be that difficult!”

Hendery nods, his mouth twitching. “Sure. Well, let’s start with getting you on your feet. Then you can gallop away to woo someone or whatever.”

That sounds like a wonderful idea.  
  
  
  
“One, two, three – HEAVE!”

For a single dizzying breath, Taeil almost feels it happening. His unwieldy torso is rising, his legs locking into place to support it. He lifts his head to stare at a stationary point in the distance, the way Hendery suggested. He straightens. He wills himself upright.

His hind hooves skitter on the sand and bring him down once again.

Hendery trips onto the sand with a little “oof!” beside him.

Taeil feels another drop of sweat roll down his flank, leaving a damp, sticky feeling in its wake. He never thought he could hate the feeling of water, but clearly today is a day of new experiences.

He turns to check on his friend. Hendery hasn’t sat up or even fixed his hat, which sits low over his face and hides his expression. “Hendery. I’m sorry to be such a bother. I’m sure this isn’t what you had planned for this morning.”

Hendery shrugs. “It’s okay. This is probably more productive anyway.”

Taeil doesn’t see how that could be, in light of the fact that their only progress has been an increase in how sweaty they are, but he doesn’t voice this. He tilts his face up to the sun. The breeze that had been so jarring before feels soothing on his skin now, and he welcomes the cool touch.

For the next several moments, it’s just Hendery lightly dozing under his hat, the sea breeze ruffling through the loose ends of his hair, and the centaur at his side pressing his hooves into the sand to make fun patterns.

“Hey, Hendery.”

“Yeah?”

“What did you come to the beach for, anyway?”

The hat shifts, then Hendery’s flushed face appears. Wordlessly, he digs a shell out of the sand and holds it up for Taeil to see.

“Oh, shells? Like the ones around your neck?”

Hendery’s hand comes up to touch them reflexively. He has at least four or five shell-lined necklaces strung around his neck, which had clattered a lot while they fought to get Taeil on his feet. Taeil had wondered if they were heavy, and what they meant.

“Yeah… yes, exactly like that.”

Taeil brightens. He may be on a mission, but it would be remiss of him to let Hendery do so much for him without helping Hendery in return. This can be a side quest while he works up the stamina to try standing again. “I’ll help!”

Hendery gives him a dubious look. “Look, I appreciate it, but… you can barely stand.”

“Maybe I’ll just scuttle around on my butt! Staying close to the ground will give me a new perspective. I’ll imitate my crab friends. It’s a very dignified way to travel!”

Taeil drags himself by the front legs to demonstrate. One front leg uncovers another shell, so he parks that leg out of the way in a hurry and reaches down. He holds the shell out to Hendery on an open palm. “Ta-da!”

Hendery accepts it in silence and stares at him for a moment. Then he shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

For the rest of his first morning on four legs, Taeil scrapes around on his behind, happy as a clam.  
  
  
  
“Hendery. You know I love you. But you’re going to have to try harder to convince me.”

The man stands unmoved once again as Hendery tries to shove a shell necklace into his hands.

“I’m not going through this again if nothing will come of it, Hendery.”

“Jaemin, please,” Hendery says desperately. “Here, I’ll give you this shell!”

It’s a pretty nice shell, if Taeil may say so himself. He’d happened upon it during a particularly ungainly scramble to rise on his front legs, so he feels a certain fondness for it beyond the usual a finder feels for their treasure. Even Hendery had agreed that it looked impressive. And there isn’t anyone living in it! For a shell of that size! It’s free real estate. (If you’re so inclined, and very small.)

“I have fifty shells from you,” Jaemin says. “Try again.”

Taeil isn’t sure whether to interfere. As far as he can tell, Hendery is wheedling Jaemin into accepting yet another shell necklace like those around Hendery’s neck. Taeil doesn’t really see what Jaemin has to lose from this one-sided bargain. Still, Jaemin stands resolute, which is funny because he’d agreed to take Taeil along towards the castle with no fuss at all.

(“This is Taeil,” Hendery had said. “He’s only a centaur some of the time. He’s on a mission of romance. He’s never had legs before, and he needs your help.”

Jaemin nodded at this perfectly reasonable declaration. “Right on.”)

It must be a very weighty necklace indeed, literally and/or figuratively, if it’s harder to accept than an entire helpless centaur.

Hendery freezes for a second, floundering for a retort, then says, “No, wait! This one is special! It makes a cool horn sound instead of sea-song.”

Jaemin looks skeptical, but holds out a hand for it. Hendery draws close, flings the necklace onto Jaemin’s arm, and leaps out of range triumphantly. Jaemin’s expression flattens.

For the love of krill. Taeil sighs and decides to do one more nice thing for his human friend. “Alright, just give it here. The shell, hand it over.” If it’s really a sea horn, found this far past the shallows, it can’t be a very good one. Probably not even in tune. Who knows what kind of drivel they’re putting in them these days.

Taeil cups the shell between his hands. Sucking in a huge breath, he begins to gather song in his throat. He doesn’t know what kind of song the shell held before, but he isn’t a soloist in hot demand back home for nothing. He lets the sea-song rise in him like a swelling tide, fluttering from somewhere between his ribs to gain wind in his throat, to burst up and out. It spills from his lips to flood the shell with sound. Some of it definitely overflows around the edges, but Taeil has plenty of song to spare. He fills it with the excitement of leaving the water, and the thrilling hope of new love, and for the sake of authenticity, the rush of riding sea currents to new waters. Once the last trilling note leaves his lips, he wrenches the shell away and clamps his hand over the opening. There’s a burst of warmth against his fingers, a glow slipping through the cracks, and then the sea-song settles.

He tests it on his own ear. The sudden blast of his own voice almost bowls him over. Yup, that shell will still be singing for years to come.

Hendery and Jaemin are staring at him, gobsmacked, which is a little embarrassing. He presses the shell into Jaemin’s slack fingers. “Can we go now?”

Jaemin gives him an unreadable look, but agrees.

“Great!” Hendery has obviously cheered up now that Jaemin has given in. “Then we’ll just load you on, and you’ll be on your way!”

They all turn to look at Jaemin’s wagon. It’s a peculiar thing – squat and earthy-looking like a hut, covered in strange carvings and panels like a puzzle box, and not very much like a wagon except for the four wheels on the bottom. Taeil isn’t sure how it moves anywhere without a horse attached. He isn’t sure how both he and Jaemin would fit in it with his usual mermaid tail, let alone a full centaur body. Taeil has a lot of doubts about this all of a sudden.

Jaemin claps his hands. “Alright, chop chop!”

And the wagon… _unfolds._  
  
  
  
“Hey, what does this one do?”

Taeil reaches out a finger to flick the propeller on the little whatsit on the shelf. A hand snatches his finger back.

“Don’t touch that! It’ll send you flying.”

“Really?” Taeil has already tried walking for the first time and found that, so far, it’s not for him. Why not give flying a shot?

Jaemin slaps his hand away again. “It’ll turn all your limbs into propellers and propel you away. All your limbs are on the bottom side. They’re just going to smack into each other and make a mess. Don’t touch it!”

The wagon whirs all around them. Sitting on the inside is like looking out from the heart of a clock – all whirring gears and spinning levers and sliding panels wherever you turn. A window opens on the passing forest and closes again. A tiny pipe drops from the ceiling, coughs a puff of smoke right in Taeil’s face, and disappears. The shelves upon shelves of land-bound flotsam jostle with every divot in the road. Outside, the wheels creak as they turn. Taeil can barely hear the clicking of joints, metal on metal, as the magic-powered automaton at the front of the wagon pulls them all onward. He’d wanted to observe this horse-like contraption at first, in case it gave him any tips for his own horse-like activities, but Jaemin had hurried him along. He had also pointed out that the automaton had three legs, not four, and that its legs folded the other way besides.

Taeil pouts. He retracts his arm back to his side with care, avoiding the umbrella stand, martial arts dummy, and large houseplant in close proximity on the way there.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize he had to keep a tighter rein on his limbs here. Whether inside or outside the wagon, his limbs were a major hazard. They’d ended up spending another half hour trying to maneuver him into the wagon. You’d think with two humans – with just as many arms as he now has legs! – they’d be able to manage it, but alas.

Eventually Jaemin just threw up his hands and climbed into the wagon. Taeil almost thought Jaemin was going to leave him behind, but instead, Jaemin reemerged with a feather in his gloved hand.

“Here, hold this.”

Taeil held it and found himself starting to float away. Luckily, Jaemin produced a rope from some pocket, lassoed him around the middle, and floated him into the wagon.Then he threw a glittering black powder over him. Taeil crashed to the floor.

And here he is on the floor still, watching Jaemin putter around the wagon. He rummages around in a bin full of half-filled bottles, then a bag of strings and ribbons of varying length. His foot sends what looks like a small telescope rolling down the length of the wagon. He doesn’t seem to care. The telescope bumps into the far wall and lets out a disproportionately loud sound like a gong.

“Oh come on, pipe down,” Jaemin mutters into a bucket of plastic frogs.

You see, as Jaemin has explained, he is a businessman. A buyer and seller of magical odds and ends of unrecognized worth. He travels the land, trundling up to people’s doors and offering his magical wares. His most recent sale was a worn fountain pen that sharpens concentration and never runs out of ink; in the town before that, an old hair ribbon tied into an intricate knot for poise and successful performances. Whatever meets the needs of the client, you understand. In exchange, he accepts the detritus of their lives: the much-loved – or at least much-used – objects that have become imbued with intent over the years, intent that can be refashioned into magic and new purpose.

Jaemin trades in old belongings and new life, but he does not often get to handle magical objects that are completely new. It brings new meaning to the reverent way Jaemin handles Taeil’s song-shell, wrapping it in five mismatched quilt squares and tucking it behind a twisting figurine of a dragon guarding a glowing pearl. He rests a hand on it. Then he begins to explain.

Jaemin mostly deals with objects, inanimate conduits, not magic attached to living beings. He has certainly never met a non-centaur like Taeil before. But he is a magic practitioner, and Taeil has given him a gift he cannot ignore. It’s not enough just to ferry Taeil along on a route he was going to take anyway. He’s taking Taeil on as a client.

The song-shell is new, the same way Taeil’s four-legged predicament is new, and it’s an honor and a challenge to deal with both, Jaemin assures him.  
  
  
  
“So. Moon Taeil of the First Cohort of Sirens, then golden-tailed, now four-legged.”

Taeil hadn’t realized Jaemin knew who he was.

“On this day, the fifth of the eighth month, you have come to my wagon, in need of help.” Jaemin marks this down on his notepad. “I swear on my favorite Sailor Moon figurine that I will aid you to the best of my ability. What matters lead you to request my assistance?”

Apparently this is a formal consultation now. “It’s the, uh, legs, honorable… businessman. Jaemin. Sir.”

“You can call me Jaemin,” he’s told briskly. Oh, good. “What seems to be the matter with the legs?” Taeil appreciates that Jaemin respects his view that the legs are not truly a part of him.

“Well, as you can see, there are four of them.”

Jaemin bends over to confirm this. There are, in fact, four of them. He nods sagely. “So there are, so there are.” He scrawls something down.

“There was a bit of a mishap, you see. I was actually going for two.”

Jaemin adds another line that finishes in a visible flourish. “Very wise of you. That’s an excellent number.” He taps his lips with the pencil, then draws a line through something. “And how did the legs come about?”

“That part’s kind of fuzzy. I was with my friend Yuta the sea witch – maybe you’ve heard of him? – and, well, we’d had a lot to drink. So then he started grabbing things off the shelves and dumping them in his cauldron. It’s hard for me to remember what they looked like now, but, uh, the potion turned pink and green? And it was definitely glowing at some point.”

Jaemin pauses. “Pink and green, you say?” Taeil nods. “Sounds tasty.”

“It was not,” Taeil informs him.

Jaemin hums and starts scribbling furiously. Taeil senses some exciting developments coming on the horizon. He fields a few more probing questions from Jaemin, a few mild reactions, and by then Jaemin’s notepad must be very full indeed. Taeil’s excited to see what he’s come up with.

“Okay, here’s what I’ve got.” Jaemin flips the notepad around with a showman’s twirl.

Taeil’s jaw drops. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he notes that now he’s the one who must watch out for mid-size guppies.

On the notepad is an incredibly detailed sketch of a man laying down with three cats sprawled over him: one on the shins, one on the stomach, and one on his face. The face-cat has dense scribbles for shading. The shin-cat has a near-abstraction of a tail that ends in a vague floof. The stomach-cat looks incredibly smug to be among such illustrious company.

Jaemin looks very pleased with himself, as he should be.

“I love the detail on the cat butt over his face,” Taeil tells him. “Really does something for the realism, it does.”  
  
  
  
To Taeil’s pleasant surprise, the velocity of incoming new experiences seems to be increasing. Just this morning, he tried legs for the first time. Now, all of the novelties that follow have been packed into the next hour.

First, he gets to try out different coat patterns on his new fur, as Jaemin picks up a series of charmed shawls and drapes them over Taeil’s back one by one. The brown spots on white are his favorite. Then Jaemin gives up on cloth-anchored magic and flings them all back in the hatbox they came from, without bothering to fold them. Taeil wonders if that’ll cause problems down the line.

“What was I thinking?” Jaemin asks the improbably large drawer of glassware he’s just pulled out of the wall. “Stupid, stupid. Of course their effects are only superficial.”

He pulls out a heavy-looking jug and pours some shimmering liquid into a basin with a pretty mandarin duck couple painted on the bottom. Then he beckons Taeil over. “Go on, put your feet in it. One at a time.”

“Not my hands or something?” Taeil doesn’t want to trample the pretty ducks by accident.

“Do you _want_ your arms to transform too?”

Fair point. Taeil dips his hooves one by one.

Within a minute, for the first time in his life, he is treated to the sight of four completely hairless human legs sticking out of a normal horse torso. He never wants to see this again.

Jaemin blanches and dumps the rest out the window. “Shit, it’s gone bad.”

Six failed attempts later, Taeil is still parked on the floor, but now with both more and less than he started out with. Jaemin scurries around him, picking things up so he can shake his head at them and put them down somewhere else, where he’ll probably forget about them. He might be shouting something. Taeil can’t tell. The flapping on either side of his head is a bit distracting.

Both his ears have been turned into bird wings.

Jaemin had shown him in a mirror earlier. They’re actually quite pretty, although their bright colors clash with his horse torso.

Really, it begs the question of how deep the transformation goes. Taeil would assume he still has eardrums, since there can’t be much more than the wings themselves, but then wouldn't he be feeling the vibrations from the flapping, then? Are they blocked off by sections of bird chest? He remembers watching Yuta turn an octopus into a scarf once, so he could sneak it into a very serious meeting. Back then the knitted texture barely went deeper than the thickness of an actual scarf, leaving a fair amount of octopus underneath to squish around. (The octopus had not been impressed.) Maybe this transformation is like that.

A hand snaps in his face. Oh, Jaemin is trying to get his attention.

_Hard to rotate,_ he says, or maybe _are you pregnant._ Taeil shrugs. His ears are bird wings.

Jaemin tosses a blue liquid in his face.

A few minutes later, Taeil is splayed out on the floor, a ringing in his ears. He thinks Jaemin is laid flat on his face somewhere behind him. Taeil feels the wood under his cheek jerking around with the gait of the automaton, and contemplates falling asleep to it. Forget walking. Maybe magic just isn’t for him, either.

“Oh damn, I look good.”

Taeil wiggles himself around to look. Jaemin has pulled out a pocket mirror to admire his head – his hair, which has become artfully mussed and emphatically pink. At least someone else got the unanticipated side effect this time. He’s right, it does look good.

Jaemin lowers the mirror and places a gloved hand on Taeil’s shoulder.

“Taeil, I’m sorry. This magic is beyond my means to unravel.” Taeil hadn’t wanted to make assumptions, but he kinda figured that one out on his own, thanks. “Your friend is just too skilled. Even his screw-ups really stick.”

“I understand.” To be fair, Taeil has never managed to fix any of Yuta’s messes on his own either. Usually it takes some unholy mixture of Doyoung’s penchant for magic, Johnny’s indomitable enthusiasm, and Taeil serving as a guinea pig yet again. Plus a good dollop of Kun pressuring Yuta into cleaning up after himself.

Jaemin rummages on a low shelf. He displaces a striped feather, a very small ocarina, and an origami dog before he finds what he’s looking for. “In lieu of that, I offer this charmed rose. For your mission of romance.”

“It’s not going to turn my nose blue or anything, is it?”

“No, it’s just a stasis charm so it won’t fade.” Jaemin hands it over with a rueful twist to his mouth. “I’m sorry this is all I managed to do for you.”

“That’s okay. Thanks anyway,” Taeil says.

He watches as Jaemin begins the painstaking work of putting everything back in order, now that the consultation is over. He rights the fallen origami dog, and it seems to shiver when he strokes its back. He transfers the ocarina to a higher, more secure shelf. He shifts the feather five centimeters back to the left.

It’s much like the feather he used on Taeil in the beginning, in fact.

“Actually, there is one more thing you can do…”  
  
  
  
“Jaemin, I don’t mean to question your expertise as a wizard, but –”

“I told you, I’m a _businessman_ –”

“But are you sure this is a good idea?”

“How dare you,” Jaemin says with no conviction. “I told you, we’ve got it all figured out. Do you need me to run it all by you again?”

Taeil’s newest friend, Mark, scrunches up his face. “Well, nah. Basically what I got is that this is Taeil –” Taeil waves – “hi, Taeil – and you want me to carry him along to the castle with everything else.”

Behind him, Mabel, his horse, bends down to nibble at the weeds by the side of the road. Taeil looks upon the attached cart in admiration. It’s impressive, partially because of the lovely lady pulling it, partially because of the clear care Mark takes with it, but mostly because of the truly staggering amount of sweet potatoes piled on it. This week’s shipment for the castle, Mark had told him.

“Not carry him, exactly. That part’s handled. Just… steer him.”

“Um, yeah.”

They both turn to look at Taeil – look _up_ at Taeil.

Taeil waves at them again from three meters in midair, where he’s bobbing gently in a breeze, tied on a rope in Mark’s hand. He beams down at them like a benevolent higher power. Flying is pretty great, he finds. Maybe he should have asked Yuta for wings instead. He’s glad Jaemin managed to find another feather for him, though.

Mark smiles back. Apparently putting aside his doubts, he shrugs. The motion jostles the five or six familiar-looking shell necklaces he’s wearing. Mark has been a lot more skeptical about this whole thing than Hendery or Jaemin, which is probably a good sign for his common sense, to be honest. He first questioned Taeil’s safety while getting dragged around in midair with no way to stop himself. Then he worried about his own safety with four uncoordinated hooves within kicking range of his head. Now he’s checking the sturdiness of the knots tying Taeil to the cart with an adorably determined look on his face.

Mark had given Taeil this _look_ of deep skepticism once Jaemin explained the mission, which Taeil doesn’t understand. Is overcoming every single obstacle not the pinnacle of romance?

At last, Mark is satisfied with their setup, and hops up to his seat. “Alright, let’s get it!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold your horse, sweet potato boy,” Jaemin interrupts. “There’s just one more thing.” When Mark looks at him, questioning, Jaemin grins and reaches into his sleeve. He slowly draws his hand out, no longer empty. Mark turns a delicate coral pink.

“Courtesy of the lighthouse keeper,” Jaemin says, then shoves Mark’s head down so 

he can hang the new (extremely familiar) shell necklace where it belongs.

Mark opens and shuts his mouth like a fish.

“Oh great, you’ve accepted his gift!” Jaemin declares. “I’m so glad his sincerity has reached you. Next, to reciprocate his gesture –”

“Please start moving,” Mark mutters to his horse. Mabel obliges. Taeil’s line jerks before he starts gliding along smoothly above Mark’s shoulder.

“I thought maybe you could send something back, like a month’s supply of sweet potatoes, or maybe just one very nice sweet potato. I expect a cut of the potato haul as payment for being your messenger all this time, of course. Or no, maybe you can come along and thank him in person!”

“Thanks, Jaemin,” Mark says with no conviction. “Great to see you, gotta get going to the palace now. Goodbye forever.”

Well, that sounds awfully final for a man who coordinates his cart trips to “run into” Jaemin for chats on a regular basis. Taeil waves goodbye, too. Jaemin winks at him.

“Looking forward to getting my sweet potatoes from you! Drive safe! Hug Mabel for me!” And finally, with a sudden increase in volume: “Take good care of Taeil!”  
  
  
  
Taeil isn’t sure what good centaur care entails, since he’s just a fake one, but he thinks that if anyone could figure it out, it must be Mark. Firstly, he’d know about humans by default, since he is one. Secondly, he lives with Mabel, who is a horse, but also a fine lady who makes her needs and opinions difficult to ignore.

(Taeil’s first encounter with this was right when they met. Mabel, already waiting by the cart, was just minding her horsely business eating some grass when she happened to glance up to find four hooves frantically kicking around where no four hooves should be.

Taeil was, for the first time, attached to an object instead of a person. He had just realized he was now at the mercy of even the slightest breezes as they pushed him around. He started to panic. A little frantic kicking was totally understandable.

Not that Taeil could expect someone as grounded and self-assured as Mabel to understand. She gave him one look, taking in the sum of his disheveled appearance, and made her judgment right then and there. She snorted.

Taeil actually froze in indignation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mark winced. “Oh, Taeil. Please don’t mind Mabel –”

Mabel knocked into Mark to shut him up and turned away, pointedly flicking her tail at Taeil.

Well then, Taeil couldn’t just let that stand. “No, let me down! I have to defend my honor!”

Mark, it turned out, was a coward who valued “making sure they didn’t run out of gravity powder before their destination” over Taeil’s honor. What a hack.)

Now, they’re resting by a watering hole and watching Mabel drink, because Mabel says so.

Mark clears his throat. “So, Jaemin said you were, like, on a mission of romance?”

Taeil confirms this.

“Cool, cool.” Mark nods. “So… what’s it about?”

This is Taeil’s third time going through the spiel today, so it comes easier than ever. Mark hums sympathetically at Taeil’s legless plight, then expresses the appropriate shock at the unexpected extra legs. (Even though he’s already seen them. What a pal.) He’s suspiciously blank-faced at the tale of Hendery and the shells. He becomes even more blank-faced at every mention of Jaemin in general. After Taeil reaches the recent past, when Jaemin handed Mark a centaur on a rope just as easily as if he were a balloon, they fall into thoughtful silence.

“That’s really cute,” Mark says, finally.

Taeil thinks so too.

“If you don’t mind me asking – if you don’t mind answering.” Mark fiddles with a blade of grass at his feet. “What made you decide to come here on a whole mission and all? Like, I get that land travel is a pain in the butt. So why’d you feel you had to come now?”

Taeil considers this.

Land travel really is a pain in the butt, as well as the abdominal muscles. Even with legs, this journey has been a hassle and a half in so many ways. The extra legs, the hurdles in learning to use them. The improbability of Jaemin finding a way to change them in their short time together. It goes both ways, though. If it weren’t for this trip, he wouldn’t have met Hendery, or Jaemin, or Mark. (He could do without meeting Mabel’s judgment.) He wouldn’t have gotten to experience life from three meters above the ground. But that doesn’t answer the question.

“Hmm. Look at it this way. I can go on following the flow where the water takes me, like a… floppy piece of kelp, let’s say.” Mark’s looking skeptical again. “Or I can take control and work to get where I want to be. Like a… ship’s captain. Or a whale! Whales are really hard to push off course.”

Mark can raise his eyebrows all he wants; Taeil is certain this is true.

“I can do one or the other, and I’ve made my choice.”

Mark nods, but looks dissatisfied, like that wasn’t the answer he wanted, or maybe the question he needed. Taeil hopes he figures it out before they dump Taeil on the ground again, rather than after.  
  
  
  
“Okay, well, what about this one? Did you know that you can eat the entire plant, like, not just the roots?”

“I’ve never had a sweet potato before,” Taeil says.

Mark gasps. Mabel plods on peacefully.

It turns out there are many more things to know about sweet potatoes than Taeil had ever realized. For example, they are not yams. (Taeil has never had a yam either.) They can be purple. They contain a high percentage of beta-carotene! Mark is so full of knowledge. Taeil is impressed.

Fortunately, Taeil can respond in kind. He has thousands of stories about the reefs, and underwater volcanoes, and where to find all the coolest cephalopods. The camouflaging properties of cuttlefish turn out to be a hit – Mark listens with his eyes wide and mouth ajar, and even Mabel turns her ears back a few times in interest.

They’ve been trundling in silence for a while, absorbing the disquieting fact that cuttlefish have rigid beaks hidden behind all the tentacles, when Mark tries again.

“So, uh… romance. Wait, no, that was weird. I’m sorry,” Mark says. He fidgets for an awkward moment. “So, like, your person. Does he know you’re coming?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Taeil says brightly. “I’m looking forward to the look on his face.”

Mark squeaks out a laugh. “Yeah, me too, haha.” Taeil had forgotten that Mark is the castle sweet potato dealer, well-known to the castle denizens. He probably knows him!

Chewing on his lip, Mark is clearly mulling something over. Taeil admires his many necklaces as he waits. They layer over each other with different lengths in a way that shows a lot of thought put into it. Finally, Mark says, “Does it bother you? Not knowing how you’ll be received?”

Taeil doesn’t even need to consider this time. “Not really. I’m making the trip to say what I want to say, so he’s free to respond however he chooses.”

“Wow, respect, man.” Mark raises a hand for a fist bump of solidarity, then remembers that the only parts of Taeil within reach are hooves.

It takes a few more tries after that. Taeil shares some cool facts about sea pigs, and sea hares, and sea cucumbers; Mark doesn’t know enough about their land counterparts to reciprocate. Instead, he makes a vague allusion to seashells on the shore, then abandons subtlety and brings up Hendery’s enthusiasm for finding them. He asks what Taeil plans to say when he arrives. They debate the merits of a short romantic message versus a long-winded one. Mark fiddles with his necklaces a lot and admits that Hendery had actually started out with gifts of individual seashells, before Mark casually mentioned that he couldn’t carry them with him easily. He really appreciates Hendery’s gestures. He would go to see him, but he doesn’t know how to without a ready excuse for showing up at the lighthouse.

Then, he says, “Yeah, so you see. How do I… Uh, what would you… So you’ve met Hendery, right?”

Indeed Taeil has. He has something else to say first, though.

You could say this courtship is convenient right now on Taeil’s side, because Taeyong always comes to him. He already travels to the palace in the deeps regularly for diplomatic occasions. It’s great – Taeyong already has a breathing bubble on when they meet; Taeil can take him to meet all the aquatic arthropods and watch him coo over them; Taeil gets to feel cool and knowledgeable and exciting. It’s a wonderful time. But Taeil can’t just try to dazzle Taeyong all the time. Taeyong is cool and knowledgeable and exciting too, and he should get to show it off. More than that, Taeil should make the effort to see the person Taeyong is when out of the water, in his own element.

A relationship takes more than one person. Taeil wants Taeyong to know he’s willing to make the trip for him, too. That Taeyong is worth becoming a helpless centaur-balloon for.

He’s really looking forward to telling Taeyong all about his adventures.

Of course, none of this would be possible without the friends Taeil’s made along the way. He’s glad he met Hendery first. He wouldn’t want to pointlessly struggle to his feet with anyone else. That’s _their_ pointless struggle now.

“You know, I’m glad I met Hendery,” Taeil says, all nonchalant and breezy. “He’s a great friend, and I think he’d be a great partner.”

“Oh yeah, I agree. One hundred percent.” Mark says this with certainty, but he’s still staring down at his hands, opening and closing them on nothing. They fall silent to the steady rhythm of Mabel’s hooves.

If Taeil could put a hand on Mark’s shoulder right now, he would. He settles for bending down really far to awkwardly pat his head. “He has great taste in seashells. That’s how you know.” Then he winks.

Mabel snorts again.

“Thanks, Taeil,” Mark says, but now he’s smiling.  
  
  
  
The captain of the guard is actually struck speechless at the sight of Taeil approaching. Admittedly, this may be because Taeil is currently floating three meters above the ground, with four horse hooves besides. It’s still very satisfying.

“Lee Donghyuck!” He roars. “I have come to conquer the continental land mass! Where’s my warm welcome?”

Donghyuck recovers himself enough to answer. “Moon Taeil! Finally showed up to face me, huh? Are you ready for our duel?”

“We’re here to see his highness,” Mark cuts in. “It’s very urgent.”

“Oh really?” The look on Donghyuck’s face promises mischief. “It must be, if you’re deigning to come down from such a high station.” He gestures up at Taeil. “Shall I show you in, your horseness?”

“As soon as I’m back on the ground, I’m going to put a hoof in your face!” Actually, there’s a more efficient solution. “Mabel, kick him for me! … Mabel?”

Without Taeil noticing, Mark had disembarked from the cart with him, and someone else came to retrieve the sweet potatoes and lead Mabel away. Mabel whinnies at him.

Taeil allows Mark to pull him inside without another word. Donghyuck laughs at him.

If Donghyuck’s reaction was satisfying, the way the entire court falls dead silent at their entrance will keep Taeil smug for the next decade.

Taeil takes the opportunity to look around while Mark walks him down the aisle. It’s a very nice throne room. He’s used to the eerie glow of the magical torches they use in the underwater palace, but the light streaming from the high windows falls across the scene appealingly. There’s some familiar faces in the court. It’s probably more proper to greet the royal here first and work his way down, so he meets Taeyong’s shocked gaze and waves. The throne really suits Taeyong, he’s pleased to find. All glittery and elegant and pretty, like him.

Mark comes to a stop and straightens. “Your highness, my friend has an important matter to discuss with you. I believe you know him already…”

Taeyong nods, his eyes never leaving Taeil’s.

Taeil tugs at the rope. “Let me down, please.”

Mark tosses the powder up at him, then dives out of the way as Taeil crashes down. Both Taeyong and Donghyuck make an aborted motion as if they could catch him from opposite sides of the room. Taeil rearranges his limbs into slightly less of a mess. Now he’s ready.

“Lee Taeyong.” He points a finger. Actually, that might come across as accusatory. He puts it down. “Prince of the Southern Kingdom. Sovereign ruler of these lands. Owner of a castle that is way too far from the sea –”

Mark clears his throat. Oh, right.

“I have journeyed by land and by sea – by sea and then by land, actually – and overcome many challenges to speak to you. So listen well and heed my words.” He puffs out his chest. “Listen up, got it?”

Taeyong suddenly looks very nervous, though he hides it well.

It’s too bad Taeil is already sprawled on the ground; he can’t kneel. He holds out the rose and smirks a little at the way Taeyong’s eyes catch on it and widen.

For that one breath, Taeil holds the whole court in the palm of his hand. The moment hangs suspended at his mercy –

“Lee Taeyong, will you be my boyfriend?”

And it breaks.

A wave of tittering spreads through the chamber. Donghyuck raises his hands, already ready to applaud. Taeyong is flushing and wilting a bit under everyone’s stares, but Taeil can tell that he’s pleased. If it were just the two of them, he might have hidden his crimson face in his hands, but here he has to keep up appearances.

“On one condition,” Taeyong tells him.

“Please name it,” Taeil replies.

Taeyong reaches out a hand. Now blushing too, Taeil hands him the rose, and watches as he twirls it between his fingers, dragging out this moment for all its worth. Taeyong grabs Taeil's hands so that they’re holding the rose together. Then he gives him a little smile, and speaks.

“Only if you’ll be mine too.”  
  
  
  
What happens next, they will say in the years to come, is that Moon Taeil announces that he’s written his beloved a song. The court expresses astonishment at this touching endeavor. He breaks into song right then and there, as the royal court listens on and weeps at the sheer depth of his emotion.

(Mark will gladly confirm this. It’s sweet as heck. Really inspiring.)

In the days that follow, the prince arranges for a wizard to come by the castle. The no-longer-a-centaur quickly finds that halving his number of legs does not halve the difficulty of learning to use them. Luckily, he has a doting boyfriend to walk him through it.

The next week, Mark returns with a new mountain of sweet potatoes. He is greeted by the sight of Taeil on his own two feet, hand in hand with Taeyong, waving excitedly. Even Mabel is impressed.

And then they live happily ever after.  
  
  
  
(For three months. Then Yuta comes to visit and accidentally turns Taeyong into a frog.

But that’s a story for another time.)

**Author's Note:**

> \- mark goes to the seashore to serenade hendery with a guitar. hendery is so startled that he falls off the dock and has to be fished out by taeil. (jaemin sheds a tear. it’s modern romance, he says)  
> \- i think inspiration for jaemin’s wagon comes from the unicorn chronicles  
> \- [true facts about the cuttlefish](https://youtu.be/GDwOi7HpHtQ)


End file.
